Some months ago I wrote about sitting at a crowded bar with Sherry while we were waiting for a dinner table, and a man standing behind us was telling his friends how he had been on a cruise ship and one night "partied like a rock star." As we were called to our table, I made it a point to look at the guy. He was in his mid- to late 60s, maybe, and looked like he wouldn't last five minutes at a bar with the ghost of Keith Moon.

I filed the phrase away as just another dumb buzz phrase, but this week I was watching a promotional video by an artist I am distantly acquainted with, and she was saying that people attending her upcoming exhibit's opening would, after the show, be able to "party like a rock star."

I am not entirely sure this is a style of partying most people should pursue. I mean, consider:

As empty as the phrase "party like a rock star is," I have adopted the simile for general purpose use. When my cats get loose, they "shoot through the door like a rock star." When I buy more than I expected to at the grocery store, I "shopped like a rock star."

And, of course, at this moment I am "blogging like a rock star."

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I wish to point out that the drug "paracetamol" that caused the demise of Billy Mackenzie is called "acetaminophen" here in the States. Yep, good old Tylenol. Seems out of place among the barbiturates and heroins, but it's deadly in high doses. That's your pharmaceutical tidbit of the day.

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